The Heart of a Child
by Commare
Summary: The life story of a certain Voltron member. The title is corny, I know, but it's all I can come up with at the moment.
1. The Beginning

Hi. Commare here. This is my third story to add to fiction.net  
I'm working on this one, and I'm a bit nervous because I'm having these great ideas for it, and I really hope it turns out all right. This story, so far, is pretty much pre-Voltron, but don't worry; we'll see the rest of the guys and our favorite princess really soon.  
I hope everyone will give me their opinions, even if it's flames. I'm one of those people that just eat up responses and constructive criticism because I also utilize them.  
I hope you enjoy.  
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Now on to the story.  
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Black smoke filled the air, and dark mud was everywhere, splattered and mixed in the blood. Lying in a trench made from a missal, two bodies hid, halfway covered by the frigid water that had accumulated there. One, a young woman, had her arms wrapped tightly around the other, her little boy of five or six. The child buried his face into the crook of her shoulder and trembled convulsively, much too frightened to cry. His father had already been lost in the confusion, probably dead, and more civilians were dropping all over the ground. There was so much noise and chaos, screaming bullets, screaming laser fire, screaming missals, people yelling, soldiers yelling, machinery grinding, fire howling, explosions. But his mother held him firmly in her grip, determined not to let go.  
  
The soldiers were shouting at each other in their harsh, ugly language, but the small boy understood them, comprehending one of many languages he knew. They were sacking the small fort, the exploration settlement that was home for the last year and a half to various scientists, explorers, and researchers. This slaughter, however... this massacre... was simply something to kill the time until further orders were given. They were barbarians, these soldiers from another world, cruel and irascible, sordid in their warfare, and brutish in culture. Their only goal, it seemed, was to either dominate or terminate. And this settlement of research was sadly being subjected to the latter.  
  
"Come, Pedrian." His mother whispered in his ear, pulling him to his feet, and the moment of anxious tension was gone, replaced by panic. People, wailing and moaning and screaming, littered the scorched and destructed settlement, their mouths open and their eyes wild. All of them had gaping wounds, missing limbs, and burnt flesh, sending off putrid smells and dying on the filthy and blood-soaked ground. Shaking uncontrollably, Pedrian almost felt guilty that he was still alive while those poor souls cried and wailed in agony. He would never forget those sounds; they would haunt him in his sleep until the day he lay on his deathbed.  
  
His mother had a tight grip on his hand and was pulling on his arm as they ran. Too little. He was too little, and he could not keep up. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he saw a soldier spot them and raise his firearm. In a spurt of adrenaline, Pedrian hurled himself forward and knocked his mother to the ground. They slid at least three feet across the slick ground, the sound of the zanging laser fire ringing in their ears. One of the braver civilians tackled the soldier, and mother and son scrambled to their feet again, heading toward the forest that lay a hundred feet away.  
  
Some of the civilians were fighters, some of them simply defending their families, and a few of the soldiers had gone down, their weapons seized. But still, the scientists were grossly outnumbered, and holding off humanoid creatures with heavy armor and hides twice as thick as a person's was proving to be fruitless. This settlement would not last, and the only thing anyone could do was try to escape. Women and children headed for the forest, men trailing behind in their best efforts to cover them.  
  
His mother was yanking on his arm again. He didn't want to complain, even though he thought she might pull his shoulder from its socket; she was frightened for the both of them, and it would do no good for him to slow them down. So he pressed his lips together and pushed his legs to their fullest extent. But fait would be cruel to him that day. Someone from far off called out his mother's name, and she turned her head, slowing her steps for just a tiny moment. It was enough for Pedrian to lose his footing and fall to his knees. His mother whirled about, then, and looked down at him, just about to pull him back up, and as he turned his gaze upward to look into her face, he saw assurance in her eyes. An expression that said that things would soon be better, and there would always, always, be someone to love him. No matter what.  
  
An instant later, she lurched forward, and her face arched upward toward the sky as a blossom of scarlet began to bloom across her mid section. She fell into the mud beside her child, her lips parting as large, shining hazel eyes misted over. Gaping in horror, Pedrian grasped at her sleeves and tried to pull her up. "Mamma!" He cried out in a hoarse voice, raw from the smoke. "No! Mamma!"  
  
She was smiling sadly at him, reaching up sludge-caked hands to touch his face even as the crimson flower grew and grew, taking her life further and further away from her. Pedrian resolutely stopped pulling at her sleeves and clasped one of her hands in his two little ones. He was looking down at her in grief and an emotion that spoke of wisdom far beyond his years.  
  
"Give me a kiss, my darling." She breathed softly, her face composed and beautiful. Obediently, he leaned forward and brushed his lips upon her cheek. The soldiers were shouting orders now, and they immediately dropped everything they were doing to scatter away to their ships.  
  
"I love you, Mamma." Pedrian whispered. Curling up beside her, he laid his head on her shoulder and felt her arms wrap gently around him.  
  
"I love you, sweetie." She mouthed into his ear. And then there seemed to be quiet from all around. The soldiers were gone in a matter of moments, and Pedrian blocked out the rest of the noise, shivering with the cold, and lying in wide-eyed shock. Dead. She was dead now. She looked like she was sleeping, serene and peaceful, displaying the promise that things would soon be better. Her arms were assuring and sweet, reminding him that there would always, always, be someone to love him... no matter what.  
  
Something from deep within the small boy told him that there weren't enough tears to accommodate for all the times that would obligate crying. It told him of tragedies to come. So, shutting his eyes tightly, he willed himself to grieve quietly for his mother, send out a prayer, and then he lay there in her arms, trembling, feeling the warmth drain away from her and waiting for the few survivors to come and find him.  
  
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Chip Segrin found his little sister, Brenda, looking out the front window of their home. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Brenda... they won't be here for another half hour."  
  
The four-year-old girl turned from her perch on the headrest of the couch. "What will he be like?" She asked.  
  
"Get off of there, and maybe I'll tell you." He answered, going over to the bookcase and scanning for his algebra text for next week. It was a little bit advanced for a nine-year-old, but Chip was smarter than most nine-year-olds.  
  
Brenda had scuffled over and was soon standing right behind him. "Tell me." She persisted in her little voice.  
  
"Well..." He began carefully, "He'll be really sad for a while, because his mom and dad died."  
  
"How come?" Asked Brenda, her eyes wide and a bit worried. The distraction was making it harder to concentrate on reading the bindings of the books.  
  
"Because of the war. Those aliens from Doom have been going around and terrorizing every planet they can get their grubby paws on. They attacked a star system where some people were studying. A lot of people died."   
  
"Oh…" The girl moaned sympathetically. "Will we make him happy again?"  
  
"Sure we will. But you'll have to give him a little time." He answered, echoing the very words his mother had used a few days before.  
  
"How much time? Will he play with me?"  
  
"I don't know, Brenda. Dad says he's six... that's two more than you." Where was that dumb book?  
  
"Awwhh," she whined a little. "Can't I cheer him up at all?"  
  
Chip paused to look down at her. "Sure you can... Maybe mom knows how. Go ask her." He watched her dart off, then went back to searching for his... what was it? Oh, algebra. Chip had to admit, the whole "foster child" idea sounded a bit exciting, and he, too, was anticipating his father's arrival with the new boy. He would be gaining another brother. What would they do together? Maybe Chip could take him out and teach him to play some baseball or how to ride a bike or something. Mom had said that the boy's lifestyle hadn't really given time to do those sorts of things. It was because his parents traveled, a lot, and he never had the chance. Chip finally found his algebra book and sat down, but he didn't open it.  
  
That couple that died, the Nichols... they had been old family friends to the Segrins. Chip faintly remembered that they had lived close by for a while, when he was three or four, but they would soon be leaving again because they both were scientists, in this field or that, as well as explorers for the Military. They were on the Board of Science, and they had been assigned to work together. They were kind of young, and they had had been given a little time off because of the baby they had recently had. That boy who would now be part of the Segrin family.   
  
Chip remembered Mr. Nichols was really tall. And lanky. His hair was sleek and dark brown, his arms and legs seemed to go forever, and he had the most interesting set of glasses Chip had ever seen, large and round. When the time came that Chip ended up needing his own spectacles, he chose a very similar pair. Mr. Nichols absolutely loved him for that, laughing delightedly when he first saw them.  
  
Mrs. Nichols was really pretty, he remembered. She was small and delicate, and she had auburn colored hair that curled into spirals and waves around her head and down her back. Chip remembered her better because she kept treats in her pocket for him. Both the Nichols' were really nice; he liked them a lot. Chip found it very hard to imagine that they had died... horrible deaths at that. It was saddening. They used to baby-sit Chip sometimes, and Chip's parents sometimes baby-sat the little Nichols boy. Pedrian, his name was.  
  
Curiosity overcoming him, Chip stood and went to the window, leaning his head over to see down the street, much in the same fashion his little sister had moments ago. Would Pedrian be absolutely unreachable? What does seeing your own parents' slaughter do to a person? Would he cry a lot? Would he not want to talk to anyone? What would he be like? Not wanting to make himself impatient, Chip went back to his chair and forced himself to open his book and read some of it. He actually managed to absorb himself in a problem, his black-haired head bent forward, making pencil scratches in the book as he worked it out, and sooner than he thought, he heard the family car pull up the drive. He'd barely stood when Brenda came dashing through the front room and took hold of the doorknob. She was too little to open the door, though, and Chip came and pulled it open. Their mother was soon behind them, a loving hand on each of their heads.  
  
There was his father, Torant Segrin, stately and handsome as always, and beside him, clutching his large hand in a death-grip, a small, pale boy, Pedrian, smaller than Chip expected. He was scrawny and short, looking almost malnourished, and there were faint shadows under haunted, large hazel eyes. His hair was dark auburn, darker than his mother's was, and it hung limply to his ears. The expression on his little, elfish face held a mixture of fear and hope as he peered with wide eyes through a pair of... Chip blinked in surprise. Were those Mr. Nichols' old glasses? Large, round, and wire-rimmed. Chip was beginning to feel like he may have gained a twin. The thought was both pleasant and amusing.  
  
"Hi." Brenda stated loudly as she trotted forward to meet her new brother. The little boy was just a little taller than her and looked down into her face, a half of a nervous smile working its way around his mouth. "Are you Pigeon?" Brenda then asked, causing Chip to stifle a groan.  
  
"His name is Pedrian, honey." Torant said patiently. "And this is Brenda."  
  
"Hi." The boy said in a small voice, allowing Brenda to boldly take his other hand. She looked up at him fondly.  
  
"We're going to have lots of fun, Pigeon. You and me and Chip." In emphasis, she skipped the last two feet to the door. "Look mom! My new brother! Look Chip!"  
Chip and his mother looked down at the boy, and he looked back up at them a little shyly. Torant cleared his throat.  
  
"Here's Nehinn, my wife. I don't suppose you remember her?" He asked. Pedrian glanced up at him a brief second.  
  
"Yes, I kind of do."  
  
"You were very tiny, dear. But it's good to see you again." Said Chip's mother. Pedrian smiled a little.  
  
"And Chip. He remembers you." Torant continued.  
  
Pedrian scuffled his feet a little. Chip was about to say something; he wasn't sure what yet, when the younger boy said frankly, "I like your glasses. They're like mine."  
  
Chip let out a relieved breath. "Yeah. Great minds have great fashion sense." To his pleasure, the sad smile gave way to a sincere grin. He thought he even heard a faint glimmer of bubbly laughter from somewhere in Pedrian's throat.  
  
"Are you hungry?" Nehinn asked as Torant deposited Pedrian's hand into hers in order to scoop Brenda up into his arms. "I hope so, because dinner is almost ready."  
  
  
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That's it for now. Please tell me what you think. C and C gladly welcome. 


	2. The Acadamy

Here's part two. I got a lot done over the summer, so I'm putting a bunch of chapters up at once. I hope I get a lot of reviews, cause I eat that kind of stuff up, and I always appreciate the c adn c.  
  
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Without further ado....  
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"Mr. and Mrs. Segrin... your son is ten years old. The minimum registration age here is sixteen. However, I received a few letters of reference from the universities, as well as the Center for Science and Engineering, strongly recommending his enrollment, and I'm highly anxious to see how he would fair in the intelligence department." Colonel Haggerty sat in a large, antique leather chair, leaning forward on his elbows and pressing his fingertips together. His silvery hair was cropped short, and there were many lines on his face, but his countenance was as friendly as it was authoritative. Torant and Nehinn held each other's hand and furrowed their brows nervously, but they weren't so uncomfortable to the point of squirming in their seats.  
  
"Well, Colonel, before you jump to conclusions, we just wanted to make sure that you understand we do have a few concerns. We come from Balto, as you know-" Torant began.  
  
"Yes, yes." Col. Haggerty nodded his head and waved his hand dismissively. "That's a pacifistic planet, I know. That treaty with Doom was very weak, and the Alliance knew too well that it was a short matter of time before they broke it. But we do keep in mind the planets and star systems that are neutral territory. Earth is the safest place you could bring your son-"  
  
"We understand, Colonel, but what my husband was going to say was that while Pedrian is extremely sharp and probably smarter than the three of us sitting here put together, he is also still just a little boy. He likes to play outside and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. His feelings get hurt easily, he still cries if he has a nightmare, he's scared about being left here when we go home..." Nehinn trailed off for a moment, collecting herself to keep words from pouring out into random, incoherent babbling. She then said carefully, "I don't know whether he remembers his real parents or not. He doesn't talk about them and the way in which he lost them was traumatic enough that the psychiatrist said there was a good chance he has repressed those memories in the four years he's lived with us. That's why Torant and I have made sure to give him as wholesome a family environment as we could. I'm just concerned that he'll still have a childhood. And I want to make sure that he will be taken care of and given the proper guardianship he needs."  
  
Colonel Haggerty sat in silence for a moment, studying what he thought at first to be a typical worried mother. He usually had practiced words of encouragement and persuasion for just such parents, but he had to take a moment to figure out how to revise the parts that involved telling them that their children were old enough to have responsibilities and take care of themselves. He usually assured them that their sixteen to eighteen year old sons and daughters were at an age when they could be left to fend for themselves in an environment of challenge and independence. He wasn't used to taking in child prodigies.   
  
As the Colonel was turning his brain inside out for something to say, thirteen-year-old Chip Segrin was doing exactly the same thing as he sat outside the office, on a wooden bench in the hallway. Next to him, his younger brother looked fearfully up at him with wide, expectant eyes. Brenda sat on the other side of the middle child, swinging her legs almost violently back and forth underneath her.  
  
"What are you so scared for, kid?" Chip finally asked in exasperation. "This is supposed to be really cool. Mom and Dad won't be around to make you eat your vegetables and go to bed at eight o'clock." He looked down to find it wasn't working. His little brother only wrinkled his eyebrows closer together.  
  
"I don't care about the vegetables. I don't want to be this far from home. Why can't I just go back to the Center for Science and Engineering? I thought they needed me there."  
  
"You want me to stay here with you, Pidge? I hate going to bed!" Brenda claimed in her usual louder-than-necessary voice.  
  
"It's not like you won't see us again." Chip tried. "I know mom will call every day, plus you'll come home for holidays, and in maybe a year or two, they'll let me in, and you won't be all by yourself." This was working. Pidge was softening. At least it looked like the fear was starting to fade from his face. One of the rare moments it would. Pidge always seemed to be on a short leash that was held on the other end by fear. Chip couldn't explain it. The doctor had called it anxiety, and gave Pidge medications for it. There were always medications. Medications to help him sleep, medications to lower his blood pressure, medications for migraines. It seemed there was always something wrong with Pidge, and seemingly, the only cure the doctors could come up with was to give him medications.   
  
Exercise had helped to eradicate the need for some of the prescriptions. Their mom and dad had insisted on it, despite the doctors' adamant orders not to. So, the past three years he joined Chip in martial arts and Brenda in gymnastics. Already he had amazing agility and strength for a ten-year-old. It had also helped to relieve all the tension he had a habit of acquiring. Usually tension -as well as all the things that required medications- came from things like learning yet another language to add to his repertoire, or from a difficult project. Pidge was a kid who put his entire focus into one thing at a time, and every project required absolute and complete concentration. It seemed ridiculous at first, but then everyone saw how fast and efficiently he completed each project. It was amazing. He found answers to problems or hypothesis for, say chemistry, within a day or two where it would take another scientist two or three weeks to figure it out. Pidge wasn't just a prodigy; he was a genius. And the life of a child genius was a hard one, no matter how much his parents tried to make it easy. Chip could never feel envious that his little brother was smarter than he was. He was too busy feeling sorry for the poor little bugger.  
  
"If I know mom and dad," Chip said, putting an arm around his brother's shoulders, "they'll make absolute certain that you won't be a bit lonely... and, more likely than not, you'll be so busy doing all kinds of fun stuff you won't even have time to feel homesick."  
  
"Fun stuff? In a space academy that trains for war?" Pidge's cynical tone made Chip cringe. He was losing him again.  
  
"That's not all they do-"  
  
"It's part of the military. Of course it's all they do. Ever since Doom broke their peace treaty with the Alliance. They need all the people they can get right now. Every little thing I do, every bigger and better weapon that gets built, every ship that gets updated and remodeled, will help toward the war and helping the Alliance win. We were brought up to reject warfare and conflict and to honor pacifism."  
  
"I know, kid, but if the Alliance loses to Doom, so does everyone else because if Doom conquers all the planetary systems within the war zone, all the planetary systems in the neutral zone will be their next target. Doom's ultimate goals from the beginning had always been first galactic control and then universal control. That whole treaty was just a façade on Zarkon's part, because he was just looking to build up his forces without the trouble of fighting off the defenders at the same time." Chip knew Pidge had heard it all before, but smart as he was, the kid still sometimes refused to let certain things sink in, and they had to be repeated to him. Things like power-hungry blue aliens that scavenge the galaxy like locusts, destroying planets and taking prisoners to add to their growing number of slaves. Things like neutral territory meant very little to the Doom Empire, and if they overthrew the planets that were specifically at war with them, the neutral planets would surely be next. "Mom and Dad would never make you do this if they didn't think it was in everyone's best interest."  
  
Brenda, not fully comprehending what Chip was talking about, sat there in polite silence, watching Pidge as he sulked with resignation. She never got involved with her brothers' discussions. Her self-appointed job was simply to take care of her siblings and be there for them, humoring them or getting them to play and act their age when needed. She was aware that her brothers were exceptional boys, but she would never want to have to do all the boring, hard stuff they were made to do all the time. Every night she went to bed, and she prayed to the gods, thanking them that she wasn't cursed with the gift of brains like Chip and Pidge were. Heavens knew she loved her brothers, but they were down and outright geeks. At least Chip was. Pidge was still young enough to maybe be saved from the dorky clothes and school nerd-clubs that Chip was involved in. Hopefully, this academy would be the place for him to explore style and culture, develop a sense of self and color.  
  
There was a faint beeping, and a quiet swoosh as the office door opened and Mrs. Segrin poked her head out. She looked down at her three children, little angel faces in her eyes, all sitting side by side. One bore a look of encouragement, one a look of mild betrayal, and the third an expression of pure and innocent affection. Brenda always trusted every decision her parents made. "Pedrian, Colonel Haggerty would like to speak to you, honey." She was to only one who ever actually used his real name these days. And that was just sometimes.  
  
Resolutely, the small boy slid off the bench, looking a bit like he was in trouble and awaiting punishment. Nehinn gently herded him into the office, and the door slid shut behind them. The hallway was quiet once again. Brenda stopped swinging her legs and sighed before sliding over next to her bigger brother. "Pidge doesn't want to go here."  
  
"He'll like it. Just you watch."  
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Xelda Lien tried not to walk too fast despite her long legs and the practiced - not to mention expected - habit of hustling everywhere she went. Still the little kid, beside and a bit behind her, was taking two steps for every one she took. She had been assigned by the Colonel to be his temporary guardian until they were able to establish a regular routine for him. She felt kind of bad for him. His family had said their good-byes and left only an hour ago to go back to their planet, and now here he was, all by himself in a strange place, and only...  
  
"How old are you?" She asked as gently as possible. He was solemnly studying the linoleum floor in front of him as they traveled toward the facilities wing. He looked up momentarily, politely.  
  
"Ten."...And only ten years old. Cute little thing. Kind of like a little elf. A little bit alien; he was from Balto right? A little smaller than folks from Earth, Baltonians also tended to be a bit leaner, and the eyes were slightly bigger. Also, they aged just a little slower. Perhaps that's why he looked younger than ten. Before, she had thought he was maybe seven or eight at most.   
  
It was almost pitiful watching him say farewell to his family. He had looked so forlorn until, when his mom was hugging him, she murmured for a while, in a low voice, into his ear. After a moment or two Xelda realized that she was singing something to him. Whatever it was, he visible relaxed afterwards, and after the family left, he stood with a little more determination in his stance. But the hour had passed, and already he looked a bit like he was starting to wilt. Xelda tried to think of a way to start a conversation that would hopefully distract him from his moping. What does a person talk about with a ten-year-old genius?  
  
"What sort of hobbies do you have - what's your name again?"  
  
The prospect of a conversation seemed to interest the kid. At least he wasn't walking with such reluctance now. "Pedrian Nichols. People call me Pidge though."  
  
"Okay. And what sort of hobbies do you have, Pidge?"  
  
"Well... I like video games... and botany. Do you like the outdoors Miss Lien? Do they have camping or anything like that around here?"  
  
"Oh yeah. Some of the science groups go on backpacking expeditions sometimes. You might enjoy that. And Pidge, you can call me Xelda. As for the outdoors, I grew up in the city, so I'm more of a video game buff. What kind of games do you like? Have you ever played Storm Rage 5?"  
  
"Yeah. I have a copy that I updated if you want to try it out sometime."  
  
"Really? What kind of updates?" The walk to the uniform department where Pidge would be fitted took about fifteen minutes, and as they talked, Xelda found she was already starting to like him. He was an excellent conversationalist and absolutely charming. She had to give him credit too, for not being a spoiled, smug, stuck up little snipe like the one or two prodigies she'd had the misfortune to meet. Those kids knew that they were smarter and probably had been told too many times how "special" and "exceptional" they were, letting it go to their heads. Xelda sent out a silent thank you to the Segrins for knowing how to bring up a descent child.  
  
After the boy had been measured, Xelda took him to eat at one of the nearest commons that were open all hours, usually for the unlucky junior officers who ended up with patrol jobs that could go to ungodly hours in the morning. She found, to her delight, a couple of friends lounging at one of the tables, a junior officer and two seniors about to graduate and be awarded the rank of officers, so she brought her new companion over to meet them after they had picked something to munch on.  
  
"Hey Xelda! Who's the kid? Your little brother or something?" A guy in uniform, about twenty, with well-groomed brown hair and sharp blue eyes sat with his chair pushed back so he could prop his feet up on the table.  
  
"Nope. Lance, I'd like you to meet Mr. Pidge Nichols."  
  
"Oh. Perusing the younger male population now, are we, Xelda? Can't take the men your own age?" He pulled his feet down to shake Pidge's hand. "Nice to meet you. Lance Jackson. I represent the lollipop guild."  
  
"The what?" Pidge asked in confusion, but Xelda took him by the shoulders and steered him away toward the other two guys, saying to Lance as she did so,  
  
"Really, Lance, all the men your age are too easily comparable to two-year-olds. I needed a guy with much more maturity and mental capacity than that, so I went and found this charming little gentleman." She gestured toward the guy who was sitting across from Lance, with unruly black hair and dark brown eyes. He was wearing a uniform identical to Xelda's and Lance's. "This is Keith Feldman, role-model student and every teacher's and commanding officer's pet."  
  
The said Keith rolled his eyes at Xelda before offering his hand. "Hi Pidge."  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Are you enjoying your visit here so far?"  
  
Pidge snorted. "Is that what they call it now? Is it so you won't feel too attached to it?" At the weird looks he received, Xelda couldn't help but grin widely.  
  
"Oh no, Keith. This isn't a tour. Pidge is a student here now. He's going to be working at his own pace and sharing duties with some of the technicians and medical officers around here. He's a scientist in... how many fields Pidge?" But Pidge was starting to turn red in the cheeks, feeling embarrassed at the stares he was receiving. Baltonians were, by nature, prosperous and advanced in education, and a prodigy wasn't so uncommon as to be greeted by such looks on his planet.  
  
"Uh... chem- ah... chemical, medical, botanical, technical-"  
  
"What?! They're letting a kid into the military? Did little MacGuiver here choose to join up? Or was he dumped into this correctional center by his parents because he made too much trouble or something?" Lance blurted angrily, forgetting his manners as was common. The red in Pidge's face was not out of embarrassment any more. As the little fellow puffed up, a look of absolute outrage in his statement, Keith cut in.  
  
"Lance, shut up! You're out of line-"  
"Well Jeeze Keith! Tell me where you see "ethical" written anywhere in this situation. We're in the middle of a friggin war! And here they are letting little kids into the military. Before you know it, they'll be breeding folks inside forts and bases just so they can assimilate them into mindless soldiers-"  
  
"Lance." Came the calm voice of the black haired, clean cut, serious faced junior officer that sat on the other side of Keith. "Right now, because were in the middle of a war, this is the best place anyone with high intellect could be. It's how they develop the most logical and necessary, as well as the safest possible, strategies that will help bring an end to the war. I think you should go take a little walk and cool down before you say something you severely regret."  
  
Lance stood up, his countenance still angry but apologetic nonetheless. "Sorry. Sorry." He turned to Pidge and put his hands in the air. "Sorry kid. Didn't mean to insult you or anything." He took a short breath. "Hope we can still be on good terms." Before he could get a response, he took off. "I'm going to go have a smoke and see Charlene." He threw a reconciling grin over his shoulder. "I'll introduce you to the girls later or something, hey kid?" And then he left the commons. Keith let out a long exasperated hiss and Xelda rolled her eyes.  
  
"Don't ever let anything Lance says get to you, Pidge." She said reassuringly as she pulled up two chairs for her and Pidge to sit in. "He's just a very passionate person in absolutely everything he does."  
  
Pidge, who was watching, in anger and confusion, the door Lance had gone through, finally came down to a simmer and turned to the dark-haired young man who had admonished Lance. "Thanks, mister. That actually helped me acquire a purpose for withstanding my "visit" here."  
  
"The name is Sven. Sven Hólmsteinnsen." He leaned forward a little. "Why are you here? If I'm not mistaken, you look like you come from Balto."  
  
"Isn't that neutral zone?" Keith asked.  
  
Pidge nodded. "The war is expanding, though, and our leaders have decided it would be best to send a few of their own to aid in the resistance against Doom, though discreetly. They feel that the Drule race is too tyrannical and barbaric to be allowed to overpower the Denubian galaxy."  
  
"They are." Keith nodded solemnly. "Have you seen their warfare? Just hideous." He lifted his chin a bit to study Pidge. "They won't send you anywhere near the war zone, though. I don't think you'll have to worry about meeting any Drules face to face."  
  
Pidge suddenly looked confused and perplexed, blinking hazily, but then he nodded. The conversation turned to lighter subjects then, and, after good-byes, later Xelda took him to a different building entirely, the research center, where he would be staying. There were a couple of floors with living quarters for the staff who were far from home.  
  
"They told me in a week or so that they'll move you into one of the dorms and give you a roommate." She told him when they reached a long hallway and stopped in front of one of the doors. "For now, they want to get to know you and see what kind of capabilities you have. Here's your key card." Xelda then put her hands on his shoulders. "Your bags are right inside. I've been set up just down the hall, so you come to my door if you need anything at all, okay? I'm room 37C. Are you going to be all right?"  
  
"Yeah. I'll be fine."  
  
"I'll let you get settled in then. I'll come and knock on your door around eight hundred tomorrow. We've got to meet everyone and have them run a few standard tests. Then we'll tour the academy and show you around some more, okay?" Pidge nodded; something he'd been doing a lot that day. He thought his head might fall off at some point. "Okay, then. Goodnight, Pidge. Sleep well." She gave his hair a little tousle, then turned on her heel and went down to her room. After a deep sigh, the small boy swiped the card through the lock and entered his room. It was definitely only for temporary living. Just a bed, a small dresser and desk, and a door he suspected lead to a bathroom. He went to his bag that was on the floor and dug out a toothbrush. The bathroom was small too. After brushing his teeth, he changed into a pair of pajamas and crawled into the bed. Not too uncomfortable; just not his own bed, he thought forlornly. His mind wandered to the people he met earlier in the evening. The easily distempered as he was humored Lance, the solemn and composed Sven, and the focused and steady Keith.  
  
Keith had said something slightly disturbing, Pidge suddenly remembered. He'd told him that he'd more likely than not, stay here on Earth or be stationed far from anywhere that proposed possible danger. That he wouldn't have to worry about meeting a bloodthirsty Drule Soldier face to face. Pidge almost thought he should have said something. But then, even he wasn't sure of it. The Segrins had told him that he should at least know. He should at least know that there had been an attack at the mobile settlement his real parents were stationed at, that they had been killed in the attack, and he had survived. But Pidge couldn't remember. He remembered that he'd had nightmares every time he closed his eyes for almost two weeks, that one night he startled awake, a scream caught somewhere deep in his throat, and then it was as if a door had been blown shut with a loud slam. Suddenly he had remembered nothing. A corner of his mind was totally locked away in the dark. Pidge didn't know whether it was a good thing or not. On the one hand, he remembered no attack, or meeting an alien soldier face to face. On the other hand, with the bad memories, he somehow lost the memory of his parents. He couldn't seem to recall a face or a voice except for tiny shadows and flashes, silhouettes within dreams. Perhaps one day, he thought. A few minutes later, he fell into a light slumber.  



	3. The Mission

He'd originally lived in New York, but then his family, for a change of pace, moved to Thinian... on an entirely different planet. That in itself was worthy of a begrudging, and he spent his first two years of high school making as much trouble as he could for anybody he could until his parents finally let him visit relatives back on Earth for summer vacation. He went, along with his two younger sisters, to stay with grandparents, and he enjoyed a wild three months in Manhattan before a call was received informing of the near destruction of more than a quarter of Thinian. His parents hadn't made it. At first there was grief, but it was quickly replaced by a furious desire for revenge. So, at the age of sixteen and a half, Lance Jackson joined the Space Academy armed with an attitude, bloodlust, and a knack for piloting fighter jets that was amazingly exceptional. And as he sat in his astronomy II class, Lance could only think of how long this last year would be and that at the end it would be all worth it to receive his own fighter so he could go and take his place in the front lines. He would kill them. He would kill them all. He'd worked hard to keep his hatred, even through the making of friends and the emotional rehabilitation of the academy, and every last Drule was going to die.  
  
Major Lacrosse, usually loud and strict but always the coolest teacher in the opinion of the senior class, had turned and was writing on the board as Lance continued to smirk inwardly. Unconsciously, his eyes absently wandered toward the door, and through the two long, narrow windows, he saw Xelda and that new little kid out in the hall. She was saying something to him, bent over a little and nodding her head assuringly. She gestured with her chin toward the door. Was he about to come in? Sure enough, Xelda gave the kid a last pat on the shoulder and then started walking down the hall. Lance watched as, wide-eyed and bespectacled, the boy came through the door quietly, timidly. All eyes were on the short student in his little uniform, and with a flushed face he cleared his throat.  
  
Lacrosse, seeing the new arrival, put his chalk down and stood at attention, waiting for the kid to announce his presence. The boy took a deep breath, his small chest rising to his chin, and then he held out a piece of paper that was in his hand.  
  
"I'm Pedrian Nichols. I was assigned-"  
  
"Yes, I know. I was expecting you, Nichols." The major went over and stood before him, fists on his hips, and he put on his infamous, nasty Lacrosse frown. The one which, accompanied with some efficiently horrifying yelling, sent most newbies home crying to their mothers. "Why aren't you standing at attention?" He boomed. The Nichols boy managed to look absolutely confused through a statement of fascination and fear.  
  
"I am." He said with indignation, seemingly befuddled that the major would think he was doing otherwise.  
  
This visibly upset Lacrosse who widened his eyes and deepened his frown. "Are you trying to be funny?!" He raged, bending over to look the kid in the face. "Stand at attention!"  
Nichols was also starting to bristle a little. "What are you talking about? I'm standing here, and I'm looking right at you. You don't have to yell like that." The major's size didn't seam to intimidate the kid who was barely even half his size.  
  
"You're trying to make a mockery out of me, and I will not stand for it you little imp! Stand at attention!"  
  
Finally, the Nichols boy balled up his own little fists and jammed them on his hips in a manner very much like the major was doing, a look of furious outrage on his face. Lance sat up with interest, incredibly amused by the unnatural response the major was receiving. "Mister!" The kid admonished in a loud, angry voice. "You are very rude and insulting," he pointed his finger up and jabbed it toward Lacrosse's face, "and you have an unnecessary habit of shouting in the most uncivil manner, and I don't want to be in this class anymore." With that, he fiercely crossed his arms over his chest and stormed out of the room. Lacrosse straightened and blinked, his eyebrows raised in shock. Holding his breath, Lance dared to dart his eyes around. Like himself, all the other students pinched their lips together, eyes bugging out of their heads, trembling, trying their damnedest not to bust out laughing. Finally, Major Lacrosse slowly turned to face the class, a frown of surprise still readable on his face.  
  
"Well..." He started quietly. "I don't know how I'm supposed to respond to that." His tone was good-natured, and the immediately rejoinder was an explosion of snorts that erupted into uproarious laughter. Even Major Lacrosse shook his head and chuckled a bit before he finally he quieted the class down. "He'll be back," he said convincingly and started back to work again. Lance couldn't stop grinning. That was priceless. That story would be circulating for days. It was these kinds of things that made the academy years memorable.   
  
Lance found that he loved the academy. Although his reasons for joining were tragic, to say the least, Lance couldn't help but warm up and loosen up around the other kids who knew how to have fun. Not to mention the kids who didn't know how to have fun and were just begging to be taught. Lance loved to mess with good influences. Keith had been a favorite project of his ever since the day they were assigned together as roommates. That was the first year at the academy for both of them. Of course, somewhat obstinate about his morale, Keith had also managed to rub off on Lance a little as well. At least now, though he still took leaps before thinking and lived life a little risqué, he knew what good judgment was, and he always took under consideration the safety and care of others. Perhaps, however, it wouldn't hurt to show that new little kid a few of the ropes... specifically the ropes less traveled except by a certain Mr. Lance Jackson.  
  
The classroom door suddenly, ever so quietly, opened again, and Nichols crept back into the room, this time accompanied by Xelda. Both of them had looks of mortification and embarrassment. Lacrosse had been right. The tittering from the class alerted the major, and he raised a bemused eyebrow before sternly eyeing the two sheepish looking students in his doorway. Both of them stood at attention, little Nichols watching Xelda's every move and mimicking her.  
  
"Sir," began Xelda, licking her lips. "I apologize. It seems there has been a misunderstanding involving the basic instruction of the standard protocol behavior before a ranking officer. I'm afraid that it's my fault-"  
  
"You forgot to teach this boy how to act, Lien." Lacrosse stated bluntly, and the class instantly began snickering again. Lance couldn't help but feel mild amazement as he grinned all the wider. Memorable indeed.  
************************************   
  
"Get out of there, baby, you won't have any left for the trip." Lieutenant Archibald Hunting obediently rolled up the brown sack that carried his girlfriend's scrumptious mint fudge brownies. Then, with a dashing and handsome, toothy smile, he bent his large, muscular frame over in order to share a tender kiss with the pretty girl.  
  
"I can't help it, Lilly. You're a magician in the kitchen, and you put me under your spell."  
  
Lilly laughed as he pulled her into his arms. "Hunk, that's the cheesiest line I've ever heard!"  
  
He kissed her again. "I love you."  
  
"That's better." She smiled sadly. "I love you too."  
  
"It's probably going to be a long time."  
  
"It's probably going to be hard." She agreed.  
  
"But I'll still think of you every day." He said. Lilly began to cry.  
  
"This is so ridiculous, Hunk!" She sobbed. "You probably won't even be gone more than two years, and when you come back we'll both still be waiting for each other, and we'll get married and have twelve kids-" He quieted her with a final, parting kiss.  
  
"Goodbye, Lilly." She couldn't answer. She was still crying. He hated to leave her like this. They'd been going steady for over three years. But Arus was so far away. And things like rebuilding an economy, a kingdom, and an entire planet's ecosystem weren't just milk runs. They both knew that trying to maintain a long distance relationship, for that long, at their age, would be chancy and delicate, and neither wanted to risk heartache. So, they agreed to be mutual, and if someone else came along, there would be no hard feelings. If no one came along, then absence would make the heart fonder, Hunk would come home, and they'd live happily ever after. The End.  
  
Picking up his duffel sack, Hunk bade his last farewells, and then he finally crossed the hangar to where Commander Feldman was slowly but surely getting the rest of his team together. Captain, as he would soon be called. Boy... that Keith. The guy was twenty-one or so, graduated from the academy only a year or two ago, but he had top marks, and he was outstandingly proficient in his duties, already having commanded sixteen or seventeen missions in his short service. Hunk couldn't help but have a little admiration for the fellow. And Hólmsteinnsen too. There was Sven now, coming from around the front of the ship. He would be second in command. That guy always knew exactly what he was doing, exactly where he was going, and there wasn't a single person he couldn't handle or talk to. He was smart and cool, always composed and knew precisely what to say and when to say it.  
  
"Sven." He nodded in greeting, and the Scandinavian returned the motion.  
  
"Good morning, Hunk. That brown sack wouldn't happen to contain something by your lovely Miss Lilly, would it?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, this very sack does contain something... but I don't know that there's enough for everyone."  
  
"Oh come on, old buddy..." Said Lance from up above where he was sitting on a wing of the ship. "It's going to be such a long trip. Didn't your mamma ever teach you to share?" He put on his best, innocent, un-Lance-like pout that usually set naïve, young girls to giggling. Hunk made a show of looking disgusted.  
  
"Put that muggish snout away, you weasel. These are for the journey."  
  
"Hey guys." Pidge ran up from across the hangar. "Am I late? My brother had a class and couldn't come to see us off, so I had to say goodbye before I came." Twelve years old, graduated already, and this would be his first assignment. Hunk had met the little guy two weeks ago, and he was still kind of in shock. But the kid was cute, made Hunk think of his five younger siblings back at home, and the two had made fast friends.  
  
"Hiya, squirt." Called Lance. "You're still coming? I thought the old lady wasn't going to let you go?"  
  
Pidge narrowed his eyes angrily, but refused to let himself be embarrassed by the taunt. "My dad and Colonel Haggerty convinced her I'd be fine, and that it would be an experience."  
  
Lance snorted. "Okay... so where's the nanny?"  
  
"If you call me that one more time, Lance, I'll put you through the propulsion systems." Xelda said as she ducked under the ship's tail to join the group.  
  
"Oh Xelda," said Lance with sarcastic apprehension, "You make my bowels quiver with fear."  
  
"Lance, knock it off." Keith ordered with annoyance as he finally showed himself from the hatch. "Take off in ten minutes, everybody." That basically meant that they were supposed to start congregating into the ship and toward their stations. So everyone made a believable show of milling around and gathering their things, in reality procrastinating for that one moment more as Xelda gave each of them a hug and wished a safe journey to them.  
  
"And don't be so anal all the time, Keith." She added out loud as she lightly jocked him in the shoulder. "I know you've got a lot of serious work ahead, but make sure you loosen up from time to time, too, okay? Maybe you'll meet some girls there." Red-faced, Keith climbed into the ship. Lance grinned wickedly as he climbed in after his friend.  
  
"Don't forget to write, dollface." He said with a wink and saluted before disappearing into the hatch. Xelda couldn't help but smile. Then she pecked Hunk on the cheek.  
  
"Take care of my little guy for me, will you?" She whispered to him, and Hunk nodded with a smile.  
  
"You betcha."  
  
"And don't tell him I said that." She added hastily.  
  
"I know!" He chuckled. Then, soberly he said, "Remind Lilly-"  
  
"I will, Hunk."  
  
Satisfied, the large man climbed into the ship. Sven was right behind him, saluting with a small nod to Xelda before lowering himself through the hatch. She then turned sternly to Pidge.   
  
"You'll be fine." She stated firmly.  
  
"I know." He said, heavily accenting the last word.  
  
"Be good."  
  
"I will." This time with exasperation.  
  
"Give me a hug." This was obeyed as she added, "And remember to call sometimes."  
  
"Bye, Xelda."  
  
"Bye, hon." She watched as he climbed in, throwing a reassuring smile over his shoulder, and then the door was shut and locked. Five minutes later, she had backed away, and the ship was growing smaller and smaller as it flew further and further away from her.  
  



	4. The Adopted Family

For a while... for a while, at first... there had only been terror and fear. She had screamed and ran where she was told to, cowering under the protective arms of her elders. The lands were crumbling, the people were losing face, and the whole planet at the end of its stability. Fleeing deeper into the underground catacombs, she could only feel safe when her only parent was beside her. But then... then her father died. She was fourteen years old, and he died right there in her arms. Then she had felt only sadness, lacked her will to live, cried herself to sleep, and she almost shut herself completely down. Then, one morning, as her entire world was falling down around her, her current guardian, Coran, put his face close to hers, and he said in a low voice, "You are the ruler now. Your people need leadership. What are you going to do?"  
  
It came, at first, as a slap to the face. She? What could she do? She thought of her father. What would her father do? He was the strongest man she knew. How could she be strong like he was? Finally... finally, she pulled herself to her feet. It was hard. By the Goddess, it was maybe the hardest thing she had ever done, and she would never forget her grief. Ever. But she pulled herself to her feet, although slowly, and she held fiercely to her will, never for an instant letting go of her determination. She grew up, at fourteen, and she led her people. So many had been lost, but she gathered the rest, and she organized them, and she watched over their safety, being the strong guide she knew her father would have been.  
  
Some of it was façade at first, mainly to convince herself, and it worked too. And then, as time went by, she realized she wasn't pretending anymore. It was five years later, and she'd realized she'd been playing her role so long that it was no longer just cosmetic. She had become strong, solid and a bit obstinate. She set her goals and worked to fulfill them with steely tenacity. She had pride, she held honor, and above all, she maintained her morale. But her planet was in ruins, and she knew when to ask for help. She couldn't let her people suffer any longer. So she called for help... requesting aid from the Alliance. It wasn't until a year later that she stood, poised in the darkness at the top of the stairs, studying the five young men that were just barely visible in the dim candlelight provided by Coran. They were so young; one... one of them only a small child. These would be Arus's saviors? But as she looked at them, took in the tall, dark solemn one, the wary yet strangely at ease attractive one, the quiet, un-intrusive giant, the timid wide-eyed child, and the incredibly handsome... especially the incredibly handsome dark-haired man in red. All of these men shared a destiny with her; she knew it in her heart. She felt it deep inside her very soul. And something was growing there, a feeling, a hope, an understanding, a love, an assurance... she wasn't sure what. But it was growing and blossoming into something eternal.  
  
Slowly, gracefully, Princess Allura of the Castle of Lions descended the staircase to greet the new champions of Arus. The young man in red looked up, and the princess locked eyes with Commander Keith Feldman for the first time. Something eternal.  
***********************************  
  
Were things like this supposed to happen? Was it possible? What was he supposed to do now? Pidge sat on the bottom step of the balcony that led into the royal gardens, trembling, in shock. All of Balto... the entire planet... a whole entire planet gone. A whole civilization, billions of people... gone. His people. His planet. What now? Torant. Nehinn. Brenda. His family. Gone. What now? What happened now? Hadn't this happened before? He knew that it was somewhere inside that dark part of his mind, locked away. But it had happened; they had told him so. Was it some kind of curse that he should keep losing everything he had held dear to his heart? Pidge decided then, as paranoia grew from deep within his gut, that no one else would lose their family or their home as long as he could help it. Arus would not meet that fate. The Arusians would not see that fate.  
  
Then what of the Drules? What of Doom? Should he stoop to their level? Destroy them, their homes? Their families? Before they could do it to Arus or any of the Alliance planets? Did the Drules have families? Pidge clutched his head in his hands. A horrible migraine was pounding, and his brain was in turmoil. No. No. No... for now, there was only one focus. Defend the people that he could, the people that trusted him, the people he cared about. Focus. Control. But his body was shaking. Familiar convulsions and tremors buzzed down his spine. He rather felt like crying, and why shouldn't he? But did a loss of such proportions deserve only as much as crying? He was in bewilderment. No more than two or three tears found their way down his cheeks, so he sat, tremulous and lost until a gentle hand touched his back. When he finally got control of himself, he raised up red-rimmed eyes to see Allura looking down at him in sympathy and concern. She felt deeply for him; he could see. There would always be someone. No matter what...  
  
"You could have a home here." She said softly. Another home? Would his vow to keep it safe deter the curse of losing everything he has the notion of letting into his heart? If he declined now, concentrated only on defending it until safety was permanent, could he accept later? If this war ever ended, he didn't want to end up wandering alone through space. Allura's arm was around him, and he rested his head wearily on her shoulder. "You could have a home here."  
**************************************   
  
Sometimes Keith just wondered. He didn't get frustrated; he was too practical and realistic for that. And for those same reasons, he didn't just blow it off... he couldn't just blow it off. So, he settled for absent wondering, daydreaming, and sneaking peaks at old photos in his bureau. Missing. Not dead, not gone, just... missing. That meant that somewhere, out in the massive forever that was the universe, his parents were wandering around. Maybe they were lost, maybe they'd been captured, maybe they really were dead by now, but no one really knew. And after six or seven years, Keith finally gave up letting it torture his nights. With sad consent, he accepted that he might never see them again. And who was he to sit and wallow in his loss, contemplating the ills of his life, when everyone else around him suffered just as much, if not more?  
  
He was sitting in an empty briefing room, enjoying the peace and quiet under alternating aqua and amber colored lights. He was taking his sweet time, having nothing to do for the next three hours, and looking over self-evaluation reports. His feet were propped on the corner of the table, a la Lance, and he'd managed to have someone drag a rotating office chair into room and reclined in it now. An offhand remark in Hunk's report about something reminding him of home had been the culprit of Keith's lost nose grind, and he now had his eyes closed, pondering the life and universal questions that eventually led to his current train of thought, wherein resided the subject of family.  
  
Hunk always talked about how thankful he was to still have his family. But everyone knew about the girl back home. Daisy or Violet or something. He'd tried so hard to convince himself that it wasn't so bad as all that, but it was just as hard by what Keith could tell. Being so far away and unable to see someone you loved with all your heart. It hurt. But Hunk, the man he was, he coped. Pound after cheese Danish and roast chicken pound, he coped. He literally stored his stress and worries away into a man who was not quite as rock hard as he used to be. Those powerful muscles now had a tender padding around them, an extra layer of protection around his heart. He also took comfort in the children of Arus, caring for the homeless ones, cheering the sad ones, and regenerating the war-ravaged ones. Keith noticed the big man's gentle heart with pride, and he knew that Hunk would finally go home and find his loved one, and they would have a happy ending with lots of little Archie Hunting Juniors running around. The man had too much paternal instinct to NOT go and start a big contented family.  
  
Lance, also, seemed to finally come to an understanding with his self-appointed fate as an officer of war. Although he still displayed a passionate reminder that his contempt for Doom was as unshakable as a fish's inability to walk on land, he found satisfaction and gratification in being the adventurous joking playboy he was. He found pride in his flippancy and mild arrogance, and he possessed a good-natured and devil-may-care attitude that was hard to scrape off. He still had his sisters, he'd said, his grandparents, his friends, his good looks and provocative charms, and damned if anything or anyone was going to take any of that away. In a way, it taught Keith a lesson. Never linger on the bad things. Find what's good and work with that. And Keith did have something good to work with. He had a younger sister at home as well, with aunts and uncles and lots of cousins. He went to bed each night and thanked his creator for giving him so much. Now if only the day would come when he could see them all again.  
  
That thought sent a tinge of quilt through him as he thought of Pidge, who would never see his family, or his home, ever again. And in the files there was report that the biological family had suffered an almost identical fate to that of the foster family's. A gruesome and violent end at the hand of Doom. What did a thing like that do to the equanimity of one so young? But Pidge somehow managed to hold on to his resilience, seemed to cope and move on to the next obstacle. Keith took it as an adaptation to war. Everyone seemed to assimilate the same trait: an ever so small, beyond microscopic to the soul, tiny hardening of the heart. Just enough to help deal with things that an otherwise normal person, without the burden of war, would have to deal with. Keith worried though, once in a while, that Pidge didn't grieve enough. The destruction of Balto was already a year and a half past, and still the thought of it sent small tremors of sadness through everyone's heart. Sure, he didn't expect the kid to lose all sense of self-consciousness and sanity and eventually have to be sent back to Earth on a code eight... he just didn't expect him to deal with it like... like someone twice his age. And Keith reminded himself once again that Pidge wasn't an ordinary kid. He was probably smarter than the whole team put together sometimes.  
  
Plus... he had Allura. Immediately, Keith's eyes opened in a rush of pride and love and everything in between as he thought of the young woman. She stunned Keith; she moved him. She had so much of her own loss, the challenge of gaining strength of heart, not to mention the everyday demand that she be a focused and ethical leader to an entire planet. And yet she managed to find the time to offer a home, love, and even part of her life to one orphaned boy, giving him the best resemblance of a family she could summon. She had made Pidge an honorary citizen of Arus, made a point of spending time with him, and in doing so, she had managed to astound Keith and endear herself to him.   
  
Allura... He had thought the princess was absolutely perfect when he first met her, and way beyond his reach. Then, before he knew it, she had quickly earned his trust and... dare he admit it... his love. It was mutual, at first, just a comradeship. She was still too perfect and just out of reach, being a princess, and as stately as she was. But as time drew slowly out into a year, then two, and now three, the close relationship of a team and getting to know her on such a personal level only made the feeling inside of him grow. He cared about her more and more. Not even when she became less of a goddess and more of an actual human being, did he feel a single niggling of a doubt, in any way shape or form, that he loved her. He loved... Keith smiled broadly and almost laughed out loud... he loved that she sometimes snored when she fell asleep in public, much to Nanny's chagrin. She even drooled a little. He loved that too many greasy foods could give her gas, very un-princess-like, and even more to Nanny's dismay. He especially loved that she could let down her regal countenance and play in the dirt with the boys now and then, develop an awful sweat like the rest of them, and simply be rough and rowdy and have fun. THAT would be the near fatal end to all of Nanny's rhyme and reason yet. But it meant a lot to the team, and it meant a lot to Allura too.  
  
Hunk was her confidant. Allura could go to him with any kind of problem, and he played the dutiful older brother and gave her advice, a shoulder to cry on, and basically any and all the support she needed. Lance was her partner in crime. He showed her how to have a good time, usually behind Nanny's back but not without the supervision of the other boys. He helped her to release a little and do things young women her age ought to do, like go dancing or have that extra glass of wine, or even sneak out at night to join late village festivities. He always made sure to look out for her, though, and he never let rowdy young men get too close, being yet another protective older brother in all aspects. Pidge somehow got sucked into being her pet project, subjected to lessons from Nanny in etiquette, grace, and ultimately all things a child growing up in the castle would learn. Nanny was in her element, to say the least. And for Allura, in Keith's opinion, playing a big part in Pidge's upbringing conveyed two things. It was the adoption of a family member to fill in the void left by the loss of her parents... and it was a subconscious surrogate until the day she brought up her own children...  
  
Her own children?! Keith let his feet fall from the table and slam noisily onto the floor, a look of horrified anger flickering across his face. Thoughts of Allura's children, and specifically who the father of those children would be, definitely belonged to a bridge Keith had no intention of getting anywhere near just yet. With a loud clearing of the throat, Keith suddenly found the focus in reading self-evaluation reports absolutely crucial.  
He wasn't too worried though... in fact, he was fairly certain... well, in a way, she HAD told him that... Keith gave a giddy little grin.  



End file.
